


I Love You

by Writing-Rammstein (writingfanfic)



Category: Rammstein
Genre: F/M, Loving Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-06 06:19:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14050788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfanfic/pseuds/Writing-Rammstein
Summary: For the prompt: 'Could you write Schneider and the reader's having sex and being super worshipful of each other? That would be amazing, thank you <3'Is this good?





	I Love You

You exhale long and slow, closing your eyes, as your man - you used to hate people who used that phrase, as if they owned someone, but you can’t think of a better phrase to describe the guy between your legs right now - kisses your stomach gently, scratching your skin with his stubble.

“Chris,” you whisper, and his fingers curl around your hips, thumbs rubbing your hipbones gently. “Oh, Chris…”

“ _Beautiful_ ,” he whispers, breathlessly, and you look down at him - he is gorgeous, with his brown ringlets and big, breath-takingly-blue eyes. “You are beautiful.” You reach down, stroking your fingers through his hair, and he kisses your stomach again, hands sliding over your sides.

“I love you, Chris,” you say, affectionately, and he doesn’t respond - he doesn’t need to. He kisses your inner thigh, thumbs gently massaging your skin, and then kisses between your thighs; you sigh, relaxing back onto the bedsheets, and press your foot against his side for the skin-to-skin contact.

You can feel his breathing, slow and controlled, and his mouth against you makes you grind down into the pillows, rolling your hips up against him for more contact of his tongue on your clit. You shiver, and then moan outright when he rolls his tongue all along you, tasting you deeply; he reaches up, and squeezes your breasts, massaging them softly as you writhe against him. You love the reverence in his eyes as he touches you, as if you are artwork he is sculpting.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs again. You couldn’t grow tired of it, no matter how many times he says it - to hear that this man considers you beautiful, when quite frankly he looks like Jesus, and the good kind of Jesus as well. His tongue flickers over you, and you dig your toes into his side; as he looks up, those eyes the colour of electricity rounded in surprise, you wink, and his cheeks pink immediately, a small smile pulling at his mouth even as he lowers his head to lap at you once more. You can’t help but beam widely, and then when he pushes himself up to kiss you, you wrap yourself around him, stroking your fingers all over his body.

“You’re so handsome. How are you so handsome?” you murmur, and he shakes his head. “Your muscles are amazing.” You squeeze his arm gently, and he kisses you again.

“Try drumming nearly every day for thirty or so years,” he says, and you kiss him again, smiling. “You have no excuse for being so beautiful. For you it must come naturally.” You bury your face in his shoulder, and giggle. “Let me go back down there and finish what I was doing…”

“No,” you say, and he looks at you in surprise; next second, you flip him over, and smile down at him, before dipping your head to plant kisses to that jawline. That jawline. God sculpted that. _By hand_. You are pretty sure.

“What is- what are you doing?” he asks, beaming, and you sit back, straddling his naked body and letting your fingers wander over it.

“Sometimes I just want to touch you,” you say, shyly, and his hands rest on your hips as his cheeks flush darker. “Sometimes I like to feel that you’re really real and you’re really here and you’re really my boyfriend…”

“I am here.” He gently takes your hand, and kisses it. “I am here, _Liebchen_. I am yours.” He smiles, and gently runs his hands up your body, over your stomach and your breasts. “It is I who can not believe how beautiful you are.” You grind down against him, and he exhales sharply. “And… of course, how sexy you are.”

You lean down, wiggling your hips playfully again, and he moans, teeth gritting and lip curling into a little snarl.

“Says you,” you purr, and lick his nipple; he jolts his hips up against you, gasping sharply, and you kiss across to the other one, pinching it between your teeth gently.

“Fuck-”

You scratch gently down his ribs, and kiss his stomach - _just_ slightly chubby, and it kills you - and down to his dick, licking along his length slowly and watching him bite his lip. Then you kiss down his leg, and back up the other one.

“You’re a hairy man,” you say, at around the other knee, and he snorts with laughter.

“I will shave my legs if you want me to,” he says, and you shake your head, before wrapping your fingers around his hard-on and stroking him. He moans, lifting his hips a little into your touch, and then you take him into your mouth, licking his head as he swears quietly. “…sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” you grin, and swirl your tongue around him, stroking him gently. His moans make you feel even more frustrated, and you reach down between your thighs to touch yourself as you suck him off, but to your frustration lying on your arm is too uncomfortable, and you look up at him, eyes burning in desperation. Maybe you could lie on your side…?

“Come here,” he says, quietly, and you continue to stroke him, shaking your head. “Please.” You roll your eyes, and pull yourself up, kissing him again, tongues entwining, and he guides you down onto him, panting as he fills you.

“Baby,” you whimper, and he runs his hands up your body as you ride him, rolling your hips and pushing your chest out, head back. You know he loves this - watching your body as you move on top of him. He pinches your nipple, and you moan, before smirking at him, leaning down to kiss him; his fingers massage your breasts, and you lean back, displaying yourself for him.

“ _Du bist so schön._ ” His voice is reverent, and you smile for a moment. “I love you.” You kiss him against, and his fingers run down your spine like water. The moment feels so heady and intoxicating, and you close your eyes, cradling his face gently as he thrusts up into you with, of course, impeccable timing. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, baby,” you whisper, and straighten up again, reaching down to touch yourself; you begin to rub yourself in little circles, your other hand clutching onto his hip, and he grips yours, fingers digging into your skin. You know how to make yourself feel good, but it’s a lot more fun with him involved, and as his fingers make their way back up your body, you feel yourself tightening around him, over and over in waves, only made more intense by the way his rough fingers feel on your tits. “Chris…”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he moans, slurring his words a little, and you grind down harder on him, tilting your head back and moaning his name aloud. It isn’t long before you come hard, one hand tangled in your own hair and the other between your thighs, and he takes that as a sign to focus on himself, those hands on your hips almost slamming you down onto him, teeth gritted until finally he cums with your name almost silent on his lips, breath ripped from his lungs as he pushes himself as deep into you as he can get. When he slumps back onto the bed, you push yourself up to roll next to him, and you snuggle up to him, draping your arm across his chest which is still heaving.

“Wow, you make me feel _good_ ,” you whisper, and he nods, before looking sideways at you and smiling.

“Jesus. You’re going to kill me at this rate.” He winks at you, and you lean on his chest. “Wow. I am the luckiest man alive.”

“You wish, loser, I’m the luckiest woman,” you mumble, and he kisses your head.

“Don’t call me a loser. I love you.”

“I love you too, Chris.” He smiles.

“I still hate that name.”


End file.
